It is odd, is it not, how often one can be discussing something obscure, only to have that same thing pop up before your eyes, maybe for the first time in years.
Recently, Gay and I were talking (for some reason) about bath-chairs. You know the sort of thing – a cross between a chaise longue and a wheelchair. Neither of us has ever seen one, but they frequently featured in cartoons, usually containing a crusty colonel in plus fours, wearing a scowl, a monocle, a cigar and (so that you would be in no doubt of his gout) a bandaged foot.
This week, our regular morning walk of 25 kms takes us past the pictured item, which can surely be described only as a bath chair. It is by the side of the river track from the Alexandra bridge over the River Clutha to the Clyde bridge over said river.
Is it a work of art or a place to rest awhile? Presumably both. Certainly not a place to keep the coal.
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